


Fever Dreams

by SylvesterAlone



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Comfort, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Illness, Other, ellie has a fever induced existential crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-02 17:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13323216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvesterAlone/pseuds/SylvesterAlone
Summary: Ellie is left bed-ridden with a fever. Joel reacts just about how you would expect him to.





	Fever Dreams

Maria is staring with furrowed brows and Ellie sure wishes she wouldn't. But Maria can't help it; not when Ellie looks pale, lethargic, and her thinning face slightly puffier than normal. It feels as if her eyes are burying themselves into Ellie, but that may just be the headache that's been following her all morning. Or the dizziness that has made her feel light on her feet but simultaneously threaten to crumble under her weight. Or the slight nausea that for the first time made her ignore her breakfas-

 

"Ellie.. You don't look well." Maria remarks with genuine concern, cutting off Ellie's thoughts.

 

Ellie's stubborn ass can't even argue. She doesn't look well. She isn't. She struggled to walk in a straight line to the barns and her trail of thought is constantly interrupted by irrelevant distractions. Ellie wants nothing more than to curl into her newly crochet and clean blankets (well, as clean as they're gonna get these days). But she's only been here for two months. She wants to prove her worth in this community. That she _can_ fit in, and that she _does_ in fact have a purpose somewhere in this fucking universe. Ellie struggles to tilt her head up to look at Maria, to which the sun's early rays makes Ellie's eyes squint so hard they're practically closed and Ellie's throbbing headache makes it just as difficult to even make eye contact. Loose strays of her hair are beginning to stick to her forehead despite feeling particularly cold. She can't. She just _can't_ work today.

 

"I'm sorry, Maria.. I think should go."

 

"I' was gonna send you home anyway, hun." Maria smirks, making light of the situation, but Ellie can only continue to hunch and stare at the mud on Maria's shoe. "Do you want me to walk home?"

 

"No.. No, Joel's home so.. I'll be fine.." Ellie may be the only Leo that can't stand drawing attention to herself. She really is trying to make herself seem composed but she seems to be losing the fight.

 

 

Ellie struggled to even place one foot in front of the other on the porch steps. Her attempt at twisting the door knob open like a normal human being was laughable, and taking her shoes off at the door was like watching an infant learning how to walk. Joel noticed this. Nothing flies by him.

 

"You alright, kiddo?" His deep and soothing voice rubbled and echoed in her head, causing her headache to quiet down the screaming, though only temporarily. He rests his weight against the kitchen counter, trying his best to not cringe at the taste of old coffee. Ellie's vision may be slightly compromised but she can she the steam emitting from the cracked mug he holds, and the smell of roasted coffee beans eases her restless stomach. _It's a 1000 degrees outside.. How is he drinking hot coffee?,_  she thinks.

 

"I'm goin' to bed.." Ellie quietly replies, trying to make a rather slow escape to the stairway.

 

"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses." Ellie halts right where she is, though it pains her to do so. _Please just let me sleep, Joel_. Ellie still had some unsettled bitterness towards Joel. Two months of her barely able to keep her head above water (not literally, thankfully), and Joel was as cheerful as ever, pretending like nothing ever happened before they arrived here. It made her blood boil, and yet her fists still unclenched and shoulders relaxed whenever she was around him. She needed him. She needed a family, a _father_ in this world. God forbid Ellie is ever alone again.

 

"You look even paler than this morning. I know I should have been suspicious when you didn't have breakfast." He's walking towards her across the living room as he speaks, His steaming hot coffee forgotten on the slightly rusted counter. He has the back of his hand placed on her forehead and she can't help but flinch slightly. With Ellie's current posture Joel towers over her and his brows furrow upon feeling her temperature.

 

"You're boiling, Ellie. And sweating enough to show it." He retracts his hand, and she noticed slight wetness from her sweat on his palm. She's as white as a ghost at this point, and she hasn't felt these kind of symptoms since... well..

 

"... I'm just gonna go to bed, Joel."

 

"No shit you are. You've got a nasty fever. You don't think it's food poisoning, do you?"

 

"I eat the same food from the same batch as you everyday. You should be sick too." Ellie's hand grazes lightly over her bite mark where it remains hidden under a thin sleeve. She's hoping that after all this, her immune system isn't shutting down from a year old fucking bite. "I haven't felt like this... since I was bitten." She continues.

She wishes she could turn back time just so she could swallow those words back up. Joel's face falls, hoping Ellie's not trying to insinuate her infection is suddenly getting the best of her. His eyebrows must have been cramping because they've suddenly returned to their original position. He's worried now which is the last thing Ellie wants.

Both of them are speechless as Ellie awkwardly saunters her way to her bedroom, eyes half closed. Joel's best paternal instincts don't even know what to do. If this really is the worst possible scenario, then everything they have fought for all these years has been for nothing. Pointless.

 

* * *

 

 

Had Joel not seen the sudden progression of her fever from yesterday, he would assume she's in a coma right now. She hasn't been conscious all morning. Her eyes have barely fluttered open at times, when he asks- no, begs that she drinks some water. She's drenched her bed sheet in sweat, despite the beginning of Winter shifting into Jackson, bringing along an ice cold breeze and the lightest flakes of snow every so often through her open window. She's not even conscious enough to take any of the medicine the town doctor recommends, in the very few and rare doses he possesses. Joel chooses to obviously not inform him on Ellie's bite. Whether that's the smartest idea Joel will have yet to find out.

Tommy and Maria are notified, however. They are the only other people in town who know about Ellie's "condition", and with great hesitance Joel tells them about her fever. They're thinking the same thing. Ellie's bite is taking the win over her body. Joel dismisses their thoughts in complete denial. _She's fine_ , he finds himself repeating to them, but when he looks over at her tossing and turning in an un-wakeable nightmare he can't keep his face from falling. Even when her comatose body turns over in bed it looks as if her body weighs 400 pounds; like her muscles are screaming and struggling to complete one simple objective.

 

 _She's fine_.

 

He thinks back to when Sarah used to get sick, although, obviously she never got this bad. She would take the day off school, but the biggest tragedy of them all is missing soccer practice. The sickness itself was no big deal. It was taken for granted. He'd rub her back, give her Tylenol and orange juice, quarantine her to her room and he would head off to work. Now, in these times and in this world the same illness was a threat. A bigger threat than what it should be. Joel stays by Ellie's side the whole day, only occasionally getting up to stretch his legs, eat and use the restroom. He occasionally reads or sleeps to pass the time, but he mostly finds himself hypnotised watching her chest or back rise and fall with each breathe.

Sometimes its shallow, deep, steady. Other times its quick and short, as if she's hyperventilating. He wakes up at one point in the day to hear her quietly, desperately calling the name Riley, with such distress behind her voice its as if he can see the tears in her eyes, despite her back facing him. She's pleading with Riley. Begging. He scoots his seat closer to gently yet firmly grip her shoulder in an attempt to ground her and float her back to earth. He rubs gentle circles with his thumb on her shoulder blade. The crying stops for now, but she still doesn't wake. This fever has caught Ellie in a riptide that she's drowning in, and not even Joel can pull her out.

 

_She's fine._

 

* * *

 

 

She barely moves on the third day but at least she finds herself somewhat stringing together coherent sentences in faint mumbles to Joel. Her temperature is down ever so slightly compared to the day prior, which is a glorious victory to Joel. She'll fumble tiredly, asking for water every so often and Joel obliges. Maria and Tommy would attempt to bring a cornucopia of gifts or necessities for them both. It's the least they could do for their tireless work around the town. But Maria had brought possibly the best gift of them all; clean bed sheets. Well, as clean as they were gonna be for what was available. Joel ever so gently lifted Ellie's deadweight body to transfer her to his bed temporarily. His joints had creaked and cracked from the sudden work. His body was having a vacation from labor for so long that it strained to be put back on the clock. She mumbled at the sudden move in his arms and had cracked her eyelids open enough to see her surroundings, and slung an arm around to his shoulder in an attempt to lightly help him with her weight, her head leaning against his chest, listening to the light thrum of his heart.

 

"How'r you feelin', kid?" He lightly mumbles, treading softly into his own bedroom next door.

 

"Hmm.. shit." She whispers. Joel can't help but let out a soft chuckle as he lays her onto his bed, in a slightly upright position. She leans her weight against the headboard and drowsily wipes the sweat forming on the back of her neck. She stinks, to say the least. But she's conscious today. Always a good sign. Her head feels as if a bloater is trying to make a smoothie out of her brain, and she swears she sees Riley standing in the doorway. Oh God, she's seeing shit now.

 

"What 'm I doing here?" she breathes, staring at Riley. She still sees Riley's outfit, the last one she saw her in, with dry bloodstains crusted in her hair, but she's smirking, and there's no bite on her hand. Clear as day.

 

"Tommy and Maria brought you bed sheets, kid. Clean ones. I gotta change em for ya." He begins to walk out of the room, about to bump into the Riley that he doesn't see and apparently no longer exists in this world. But that's not what she meant when she asked what she was doing here. _No, what am I doing here? _

Riley told her once that alcohol can sometimes make you say and do stupid shit. It makes you confident. Makes you tilt your chin up and say: fuck this, I can do _anything._ Makes you think you really can just about do anything. That's how Ellie feels right now. She feels that ounce of confidence and alcohol replicates, but she does it sober. 

 

"No... _Here_.." She mumbles, with a strong emphasis at the end. Joel pauses and turns, just before he can bump into Riley, who stares up at him. She looks.. scared?

 

After her mother, Riley, Tess, Sam, and she assumes Marlene by now, she wonders what she's doing here. What's the point? You die and are forgotten the next day. She was important, once upon a time, until Joel told her otherwise. Her fever had given her the alcohol like confidence to ask why.

Joel clenches and relaxes his fists by his side. He knows exactly what she means. But she's not thinking straight. She's sick. She doesn't know what she's talking about. He wants to face her, tell her she's important. Loved. Teach her guitar. Sing for her. But instead, Riley dissipates into smoke has he passes through and exits the room. He's been avoiding this for long enough that he hopes she forgets about this when she's thinking straight.

 

She won't.

 

She doesn't.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my first fic on AO3! Any comments and future prompts are appreciated!


End file.
